A Silly So-and-So
by AstroPhantom
Summary: A fun night out involving balloons, dancing, and the prospect of leftovers. Warning: extremely fluffy.


**A Silly So-and-So**

* * *

The annual Duckburg Billionaires Club's Classic Gala.

The mere mention of the club had made Huey and Dewey cringe when Scrooge first told the kids about the event, clearly unimpressed by their first visit to the clubhouse. It was an event that beckoned the city's elite and their families, and, in the boys' eyes, already promised to be a schmooze-fest geared towards the adults.

Yet on the designated Saturday, Scrooge and the kids piled into the backseat of the limo, the boys in their tuxedos and Webby in a classy purple dress.

As they buckled their seatbelts, Huey asked in a teasing voice, "Will Goldie at least be there, Uncle Scrooge?"

Scrooge bristled at her name, the events and the aftermath of the last gala they attended still fresh in his mind. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Huey. "If she was, do ye really think I would've invited the lot of you?"

"Point taken."

The limo started up, and Launchpad jerked it into motion down the driveway of McDuck Manor. It was a short drive to the clubhouse, less than twenty minutes, which was ideal given that the sky was threatening to rain at any second.

"So...why are you dragging us to another event?" asked Louie, leaning against the car door on his elbow.

"Because it's high time you children learned more about manners and culture in a real-world setting," Scrooge answered, earning a chorus of groans from the boys.

Webby giggled at the boys' antics from her spot next to Scrooge, then explained, "Don't worry! Uncle Scrooge brought Granny and I along a couple of years ago, and it's not as bad as you think."

"So it's not just a bunch of adults talking money and politics all night?" Dewey challenged.

Webby tapped her index fingers together nervously. "Well...no- it is. But it's also a lot of fun! There's music and dancing and a buffet-"

Louie immediately cringed, bringing a hand up to rub the inside of his jacket, sighing in relief only when he felt a smooth silk lining and not plastic. He then leveled a suspicious glare at their uncle.

"What?" Scrooge asked innocently. "I'm the richest member, and I claimed any and all leftovers at the end of each gala years ago." He grinned smugly, to which Louie rolled his eyes.

Webby continued on as if she hadn't been interrupted. "There's also a lot of other kids there, and last time I even found the way into the air vents and went-"

The sudden attention of Scrooge's scrutiny made her go quiet and cover her tracks with a fake cough in embarrassment. "...Er, well anyway, there's a lot to do," she finished explaining.

"Aye, and I expect ye to be on your best behavior," Scrooge added.

The boys nodded along obediently, but in their heads, they were already scheming on how to maximize their fun that night.

* * *

Thanks to Launchpad's driving, the McDucks made it to the gala just as it was starting to sprinkle. Once Launchpad opened the door to let them out of the limo, Scrooge ushered the kids inside towards the check-in table. After signing in, he led them through the doors into the ballroom where the event was being held.

For a supposed schmooze-fest, the Billionaires Club really knew how to throw a party. There were flashing lights and expensive decorations, a DJ _and_ a live band, and a buffet that lined an entire wall. And there were indeed kids of all ages intermingling among Duckburg's wealthy denizens.

Not as stuffy as Glomgold's gala, yet not entirely as wild as a high school dance. A perfect blend of high society and family-friendly, it seemed.

The boys breathed a collective sigh of relief and eased into the atmosphere. This, they could handle.

"I'm going to go say hi to a couple of people," Scrooge began, straightening his jacket. "I'll meet you at our table in a little while. Enjoy yourselves—but not too much." He left them with a warning side-eye.

The kids watched their uncle disappear into the crowd before glancing between themselves.

"Well, see ya at the table!" Louie cheered as he took off for the crowd himself.

Huey pulled him back by the collar. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"What? It's a room full of rich people and, more importantly, rich heirs." He gestured out in the direction Scrooge had gone. "I gotta work the room myself!"

With Louie gone, Huey sighed and looked over to Dewey and Webby. "Well, I guess that just leaves us three. What should we do first?"

Dewey grinned conspiratorially over to Webby. "Air vents?"

"Air vents."

Despite Huey's facepalm, he and Dewey followed Webby to the side of the ballroom, where they casually ducked underneath the edge of the buffet's tablecloth and crawled along until they reached the air vent. With a few loosened screws, Webby pried the cover off, and the three of them crawled in undetected.

"Okay, these vents are great for spying on people at the party," Webby explained after a while, pointing through the cracks of the one they were currently gathered above.

From there, they could see every angle of the room. Scrooge looked like he was in the middle of a heated argument with Glomgold, while Louie was currently trying to edge his way into a circle of well-dressed teenagers.

Dewey sensed their de facto tour guide wasn't finished with her thought. "But...?"

"But...the real treasure lies in where they lead. Follow me!" Webby called to them as she continued forward.

They eventually ended up behind a cover that lead into another room. Here, the gala was muffled beyond the walls.

Webby peeked through the vent, searching for anyone else in the room before she pushed the cover open and stepped out.

"Coast is clear," she said as she helped the boys up on their feet.

Dewey stretched out his arms before taking in his surroundings. "Whoa...what is this place?"

Webby smiled proudly. "What I like to call...the Balloon Room."

All around them stood canisters of helium and tables lined with boxes of balloons and other decorations.

The boys' eyes lit up and they all dove into the boxes, taking out handfuls of balloons and filling them up with both helium and air. Some were tied off and bounced around, while others were filled up, only for the kids to suck the helium back out so their voices became squeaky. Their laughter was at an all-time high.

It was only after Huey let out a particularly high "quack" that Webby silenced their giggles with a sharp slice of her arm. She listened for a moment before turning to the other two, a frantic look in her eyes.

"Someone's coming. We need to get out of here!"

Balloons and ducklings were shoved back into the air vent, the cover replaced just as the door to the room swung open. A pair of feet walked in, strolled to one of the tables, and took an unidentified box back out of the room. The kids let out the collective breath they'd been holding (certainly not at their normal pitch), and glanced between each other.

"We should probably get back to the gala," Huey suggested.

"Yeah..." the others agreed in unison. The Balloon Room had been fun, but Uncle Scrooge would likely be heading for their table soon, and they needed to be there.

They shuffled back to the ballroom, pushing their share of balloons along. Once out of the vent, they held onto what balloons they could and made for the McDuck table. No one seemed to question them as they bounced a balloon between them while waiting—after all, there were balloons everywhere and the party was as lively as ever.

Scrooge eventually joined them, if only to take them up to the buffet and share a story about some "ridiculous, kilt-blazin' bet" he made to arm-wrestle with Glomgold after dinner. He didn't even seem to notice Louie's absence, much to the others' relief.

"Well, good luck, Uncle Scrooge!" Huey wished after him as he left the table once they finished eating.

Left to their own devices yet again, Dewey asked, "So...what should we do now? Balloon Room again?"

"Nah, best not to tempt the fates," Webby answered. She looked down at her empty plate and decidedly stood up with it in hand. "I think I'm gonna go get seconds. Be right back!"

"Bring me a cupcake!" he called after her.

"Like you need more sugar," Huey chided.

Dewey rolled his eyes and gave his brother a shove, which quickly escalated into an all-out pushing war. It was stopped only by Louie running up between them and diving under the tablecloth, out of breath and terrified out of his mind.

"Hide me!" he cried, trying to pull his brothers' chairs closer together.

"Louie?"

"What's wrong?"

"H-H-_He's_ here," he supplied unhelpfully.

"Who?"

As if the person in question might hear, Louie lowered his voice to a loud whisper. "_Him_. Doofus Drake. Ugh!"

Huey and Dewey looked out into the crowd to see the signature combed hairstyle and round-rimmed glasses of a certain wealthy juvenile. With one panicked look between each other, they joined Louie under the table.

"Did he see you yet?" Huey asked, placing a hand on Louie's shoulder.

"No, I don't think so. But I am _not_ going back out there."

"Don't worry, bro. We got your back!" Dewey reassured. "C'mon, we know somewhere where you can hide better."

Huey knew what he was getting at and leveled him with a glare.

"What?" asked Dewey.

"Do you really think it'd be wise to go back there?"

"I don't know. But it's better than facing Doofus. Worse comes to worst, we'll just chill in the vents for a little bit and watch and wait for him to leave or something."

Huey grumbled, then finally conceded. "Fine."

Dewey pumped his fist in victory, then pulled on Louie's arm to urge him along. "Come on, follow us!"

The triplets scurried their way across the floor to the vent Webby had shown them earlier, and effectively made themselves scarce.

Webby, meanwhile, finally returned to their table, only to find it empty.

"Guys?" she called out.

She peeked under the table, then surveyed the room to see if she could spot them. No such luck.

"Oh..."

Sitting down to eat her second plate (taking care to put Dewey's cupcake squarely at his spot), Webby tried not to let the sudden loneliness get to her. She was at a party after all, and she was sure the boys would be back soon. They'd probably gone off to find and rescue Louie from the clutches of some teenagers, or maybe to see Scrooge best Glomgold in arm-wrestling.

She took her time eating, figuring that they'd be back any minute, and when they did, she'd be there waiting for them.

After about twenty minutes, Webby sat there, nibbling on a cookie and idly watching dancers go by, still alone. She was brought out of her reverie when a shadow loomed over her, darkening her view. Expecting the boys, she turned around in her seat, only to be surprised to see Scrooge standing there, his eyes as soft as his smile.

He held out a hand to her and asked, "Would you care to dance, my dear?"

Webby instantly lit up and took his hand. "Of course, Uncle Scrooge."

Scrooge led her out to the dance floor, where the band was starting to play the instrumental version of some lively jazz tune. He took one of Webby's hands in his and wrapped his other around her shoulder, then set themselves into a swinging rhythm. He could've sworn she'd grown a couple inches in the past month or so, but he shook off the thought. No time for nostalgia now.

"So, lass, are ye having fun tonight?" he asked, peering down at her.

She answered with a cheery "yep!" but if Scrooge had been looking away, he would've missed the half-second where her smile faltered. He'd seen her brooding at the table before he asked her to dance; it didn't take a genius to know something was bothering the young girl.

"...Everything okay?"

"Yeah..." Webby shook her head, as if she wanted to focus on the music, but doing so seemed to rattle the truth out of her. "I mean, it is now. It's just..."

She shrugged, but Scrooge squeezed her hand in encouragement to continue.

"I thought tonight was going to be different than the last gala, since the guys are here this time."

A wave of guilt nearly drowned Scrooge as he thought back to the last time he'd brought Beakley and Webby to this event, before his nephews had come into his life.

He'd been as miserly as ever then, but for whatever reason, he'd been intent on making a strong impression at that particular gala. And so, just for the sake of appearances, he'd invited his housekeeper and her granddaughter to be his "family" for the evening. Looking back, he wanted to kick himself.

To her credit, though, Webby did have some fun that night, between reveling in the festive atmosphere and exploring the air vents (which he totally didn't know about). She even got to learn some secret history about the club, something that had made her eyes sparkle with that glint of forbidden knowledge.

But more often than not, he'd seen her out of the corner of his eye sitting alone at their table that was way too big for three people, let alone one small duckling, while he and Beakley mingled the night away with the adults in the room. And he hadn't given it a second thought.

"I'm so sorry, Webby dear," Scrooge announced suddenly.

"Nah, don't be. I'm sure the guys had a good reason for disappearing. One in particular that I can think of actually..." Webby shifted her eyes in the general direction of the Balloon Room, before refocusing on Scrooge, who seemed determined to get his point across.

"No, I mean I'm sorry for...for not appreciatin' yer company...before the boys moved in," he finished on a whisper. His throat felt dry.

Webby was surprised by the apology. At most, she blamed unfortunate timing and a delicious buffet for the boys' currently-unknown whereabouts. She knew they would resurface eventually, and if not, she probably would've gone off to find them herself.

Not once had she ever blamed them or Scrooge for the fact that he had warmed up to being a family man once again only when they had moved in. If anything, she was _grateful_. Grateful to have a family that loved and included her, even if she wasn't blood-related. It didn't matter how it came to be or how long it took; she had them now.

She shook her head with a silly, sympathetic little laugh. "It's not that, Uncle Scrooge. I just meant that I thought the guys and I would be hanging out and having fun together all night, but they seem to be doing their own thing right now."

"Ahh..."

Webby took notice of the awkward realization that had overtaken Scrooge, and stopped their dancing. She pulled him in by the hand on his waist and hugged him, snuggling her head against his chest. "But thank you," she added.

Scrooge relaxed into the hug and returned it, bending forward to plant a kiss into her hair. He didn't deserve her, but he was dead-set on loving her as one of his own for the rest of his life.

All too soon, they returned to their dance.

If there was one child that _didn't_ need a lesson in culture, it was Webby. Despite the height difference and her shorter legs, she easily kept up with Scrooge as they swung about on the dance floor. Beakley has taught her well over the years, and he was proud to have her as his dance partner.

After being pulled back in from a spin and laughing from the rush it brought, Webby asked, "How did arm-wrestling with Glomgold go?"

Scrooge smirked and glanced off to the side. "Let's just say, I'm going to be taking home the leftovers _and_ the centerpieces tonight. And ol' Flinty's going to be sporting some sore muscles come morning."

Webby giggled at her uncle's triumphs as the song ended. While everyone clapped for the band's finished set and the DJ transitioned into a more modern playlist, Scrooge took the time to bow to his dance partner, which she returned with a theatrical curtsy.

As they walked away from the dance floor and Scrooge noticed that the boys were still not back yet, he nudged Webby conspiratorially. "Want to help me take early inventory of the leftovers? I'll let ye have the largest share of desserts when we get home."

Webby hummed to herself, considering the offer. "Throw in _all_ of the chocolate chip cookies, and table seven's centerpiece, and you've got yourself a deal."

Scrooge laughed heartily at her negotiating tactics and pulled her in by the shoulder, shaking her outstretched hand with his free one.

"Your grandmother's going to have my head, but deal."

* * *

_I have a thousand other things I should be working on/writing, yet it was high-time I wrote these two sharing an uncle-niece dance, because apparently that's my jam._

_If you're curious, the song I was imagining them dancing to is "I've Got the World On a String" by Frank Sinatra (which is where I got the title from). I feel like it's perfect for the way Scrooge feels having his family back in his life, and the jazziness of it gives me strong S.H.U.S.H.-era vibes._


End file.
